


Hotwire

by goretier



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Sexual Violence, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 11:04:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15532839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goretier/pseuds/goretier
Summary: While investigating a car accident RK900's coding gets corrupted, and that sparks a few things (and not in a fluffy way).





	Hotwire

**Author's Note:**

> RK900 gets his circuits fried and Gavin is there to ground him (with his fists). Please don't read this expecting them to kiss, because they don't, and won't, and this is only about me being horny for android pain. 
> 
> CW: the car accident in this fic is detailed as a set up for RK900 to get his code corrupted. Please be careful if it's something you feel may impact your mental health. If you'd like to skip it, don't read anything until the break in the fic, signaling RK900 is back online after a jolt of electricity jars his pretty little robo-brain.
> 
> I haven't written anything in months so I'm not actually worried about this one. It's bad and I know it. I don't even like top Gavin. They don't even fuck. I'm not even sure what I'm doing here.

RK900 took in the crime scene with a neutral expression. It was nothing it hadn’t seen before – that was the human expression for a reaction like this, it thought. Not that it had been around all that long to actually _see_ something like this twice in its life, but the basic principle still applied. 

“Ugly fuck.” Detective Reed said to its side. He had a cigarette between his first two fingers, and was casually blowing smoke into the air in front of them as they surveyed the mess. RK900 felt the need to turn its lip in disgust, but stayed still instead.

“I hardly think that’s the appropriate response, Detective.” The android replied, stepping forward through the smoke to begin to take its samples.

“Oh yeah? Tin can like you, I’m sure you know all about our human aesthetics of beauty.” Reed said behind it, flicking ash to the ground. A moment later, RK900 heard him stamp out his cigarette on the asphalt.

The car crash itself was indeed ugly. The victim lay with his head caved in on one side, drained of blood and dripping on the greying street. RK900 had no opinion of the victim’s looks, though it did suppose he would lay outside the typical accepted definition of beauty according to humans. Not that it mattered anymore. The blood was cold and drying under its digits as it pressed its fingertips into the pool.

They didn’t get many of these – not with self-driving cars. A quick check to the cameras as it ran the DNA analysis told RK900 there was nothing in the intersection prior to the accident to warrant such an action on the car’s behalf. One minute, clear roads, and the next, a wraparound.

Behind it, Detective Reed cursed and kicked a piece of debris by his feet before moving in behind the android. He leaned over its back close, a scowl on his face, as he watched RK900 shake the blood off its hand.

“Fucking creepy. At least it’s better than licking it.” He murmured, rolling his eyes and straightening up. “Don’t know why we got stuck with parking duty, anyway.”

“Your lack of sympathy is rude, Detective.” RK900 responded, sliding its eyes through the list of results. “Mr. David Powers, 47 years old. A widow, no surviving children.”

“Nobody’ll miss the fucker.” Reed said with a shrug, spinning his lighter in his palm. The android supposed he was eager to leave.

RK900 stood up, and walked around to the other side of the car, ignoring the sigh of exasperation sounding behind it. The passenger’s side door was jammed in the frame, but the android made quick work prying it open before ducking in.

“Christ.” Reed said, turning away from the wreckage to walk back to his car. The cleanup team had arrived, anyway.

RK900 could just get its shoulders in through the door into the twisted and distorted chassis of the car. It was a newer model, released within the past three years, according to the data it had rolling in front of its eyes. No recent accidents involving this model lately. No recalls. No update patches from the company to correct any malfunctions. Perhaps something unique, then? An implanted code to trip up the systems?

RK900 reached out with one hand to the dashboard. It was burnt overtop where the engine exploded and charred the interior, and the plastic under its hands was melted and warped. It stuck to its fingers where it trailed them down, searching through the mess, to find the control panel.

“Hurry up in there!” Reed called, already on his next cigarette and glaring at RK900 moodily as he brought his hand up to his mouth with a casual and practiced motion. Something about the image made the android pause briefly in its work to study the sight of his warm and wet tongue flashing between his teeth, though it didn’t spend time processing why. Reed simply had that effect on it every now and then. Perhaps it had something to do with its programmed desire to adapt to human needs. Gavin Reed certainly had many of those.

It was hot, the android noted unhelpfully as it pawed through the wreckage; it saw the evidence of the temperature everywhere else, and the dull sensation on his fingers was hardly anything necessary. Being the most advanced model had some downsides; its sense of touch was given far less attention than models... Though it found it often didn't mind the lack of a high sensitivity, t would certainly help in cases like this. 

RK900 found the control panel within a moment, nevertheless. Cracked, split open down the middle, but still mostly intact despite the heat. RK900 slid its skin back from its fingertips, and connected to the wiring.

The car surged to life, an overload of information sparked through its wiring, and RK900’s systems shut down for two minutes.

* * *

>Re-calibrating system…

RK900 waited as its processors came back online. It took all of ten seconds, but there was something there, calling for its immediate attention, itching through its protocols until it opened its eyes with a gasp.

Detective Reed’s face was two inches from its own, pale, and angry looking.

“CHRIST!” He swore, shoving the android in the chest before backing up with another curse. “Unbelievable!”

RK900 took in its bearings. It was laying down on the asphalt, staring up at the sky. Its internal clock confirmed that it had only been out for two minutes, and that its safety shutdown protocols had kicked in to protect it from something – it grabbed at that, that last second before shutdown, and the information that had burned through its processors.

And then it registered pain in its hand.

RK900 blinked, and looked to the side. The skin on its fingertips was badly damaged. Melted plastic was stuck to its digits, still searing into its quicksilver underlining. That burning, itching need that had jolted it out of its programmed restart processes returned.

“Fuck!” RK900 said, surprising itself as it clasped its injured hand into its chest before sitting up. Panic welled up in its throat – new, new new, where was all this coming from?

“Great!” Detective Reed shouted above it, now standing directly at its side. “First it almost roasts us all alive, and then it has the audacity to still wake up unharmed!”

RK900 glanced back over its shoulder, and noticed the smoke rising out of the car.

“What happened?” It asked, looking back down at its hand to begin to free it of the plastic despite the pinpricks of pain it caused his other hand to do so. The pain had subsided, and was now something similar to the heat it had registered earlier when first touching the dashboard.

“Fingering live wires not the thrill you were looking for?” Reed replied, looking like he wanted to kick the android as it rose to its feet. “Fucking toaster can’t resist trying to talk to something of its own kind?”

“I am not a car.” RK900 bit, getting the last of it off its fingers. “I was just looking for the cause of the accident. I thought there might be some lingering data in the system.”

“I bet she didn’t like that!” Reed jeered, pushing it in the chest once, hard. RK900 held its place, and flexed its damaged hand in the air. It registered five separate points of contact, their exact pressure, the heat of Reed’s hand – all usual, all something it had experienced before. However, this time, RK800 felt a spike of venom charge down the base of its spine. It was sharp, bitter, and surprising. It reached out, and locked its fingers around Gavin Reed’s wrist.

They blinked at each other in surprise, until Reed’s lips curled in a snarl.

“We done here, boys?” A stern voice sounded behind them. Neither turned in its direction. Reed snatched his hand away, and though RK900 realized it could snap his wrist easily, it let him go without a scratch.

“Fuckin… walking trash can…” The detective mumbled as he walked away.

RK900’s LED spun red, and it looked carefully through its coding. Unsurprisingly, an error made itself known immediately. Two programs were corrupted; the RK900s sense of touch, and its sense of arousal that was to activate in the face of danger – a kind of self-preservation protocol similar to fear in humans. These two systems were tangled together, as so many of its senses were, but at least it made some sense that they were the files damaged – they were two programs at the front of its attention in the moment before the surge.

RK900 tried to force them to stop, to sort out later, but they both resisted all its efforts.

“Let’s go, tin man! Fowler would love to hear this!” Reed snapped from the car, jolting the android out of its thoughts. RK900 felt its legs stutter to life, and it walked over to join the detective while rubbing its fingertips against its palm thoughtfully. The skin was beginning to repair itself now that the melted plastic was out of the way, and only the faintest bite was left of the pain it had registered earlier.

Reed started the car before RK900 was even all the way inside, and he threw it in reverse the second it shut the door.

The silence between them was electric, tense and cutting. RK900 watched as the human white-knuckled the wheel, and spit out the open window.

“Something happened when I touched the wires.” RK900 began, not entirely knowing why it was telling this to Detective Reed, who rolled his eyes beside it. The android picked up the harsh breath he ground out between his teeth.

“Don’t know why you think I give a fuck.” He replied, taking a turn at an illegal and unsafe speed. RK900 swayed in its seat and continued to stare out the windshield, unimpressed.

“It corrupted two of my programs.” It continued. The LED at its temple was circling quickly on yellow. “I can’t quite… make out what kind of effects it will have.”

“Yeah? Maybe they’ll finally take you back.” He said, propping his arm out the window lazily. “God knows I’m done with you.”

RK900 looked down at his hands, at the repaired skin on its fingertips, and then turned its eyes on the Detective.

“I have a hypothesis, Detective. I need your assistance to test it.” It stated, ignoring the scoff it earned in reply as Reed shook his head in favor of just gritting out the next sentence through its teeth. “I need you to hurt me.”

That took him by surprise. RK900 got to enjoy almost a full six seconds of shock on the human’s face before he bust out laughing.

“Jesus fuck! You’re serious!” He laughed, pulling arm hand back into the car to make a two-handed turn. “It fried you that good? You just say the word, skin job, and I’ll be the man for it!”

RK900 rolled its eyes – a learned expression from the human beside him.

“It can’t be anything too harmful, Detective,” It bit the title out on a steely tone, that feeling of sharp anger rising once more, “In case you’ve forgotten, I am next to priceless, and more than capable of retaliating if you give me any reason to. I just simply require a test to activate my senses of touch and arousal at the same time, as before –”

“Woah, slow your roll, tin can,” Reed interjected, shooting the android with a mixed look of some emotions RK900 didn’t bother to identify, “Need it again that badly, huh? One taste wasn’t enough? I thought they only programmed Traci’s with kinks like _that_.”

Frustration clawed at RK900’s hands, and it mashed down on that climbing anger that suddenly seemed all too easy to rise at the Detective’s words. It had always been like this, for the short time that they had known each other, but with that corrupted sense of self-preservation, RK900 realized that it was positively itching to fight.

As it happened, Reed had just pulled the car into his spot outside the station, his face smug, his eyes glinting.

“You want the first shot, Connor?”

RK900 didn’t have to see the surprise in Gavin Reed’s eyes to know he wasn’t expecting it to take him up on that offer. Never before had it risen to the challenge, so why should today be any different? To be fair, neither of them had any idea that RK900’s corrupted program was edging the android closer to snapping, until it was very obvious when one large, firm, synthetic hand clamped down on Reed’s mouth, and forced his head back against the door frame.

“My name is not Connor.” It seethed, squeezing into bone and crushing downwards. Red filled its vision – error message after error message blinking up at it to the point where the android did not see the Detective grab for the door handle and force it open to tumble back out into the parking lot.

RK900 followed him, scrambling over the console just to receive a kick to the chin when it descended onto the human laughing on the ground. The pain of it sliced into the front of the android’s mind, and it gasped, startled, as its head snapped to the side.

“Fucker!” Gavin spat as RK900 tumbled on top of him. In one great heave, the human flipped their positions and locked his hands tight around its neck.

Despite the fact that it was a completely useless move on Reed’s part, RK900 gasped again at the feeling of ten hot points of pain on its skin, and took two fistfuls of Reed’s shirt before surging up and slamming the Detective against the back of the car.

RK900 paused there as its processors and warning signs caught up with it once more, only to feel pain blossom down its spine when Reed took a fistful of its hair and _yanked_. Suddenly the android’s joints were loose, and it shuddered when Reed forced a leg up between their bodies and kicked it back down to the ground.

It’s head cracked against the asphalt, and RK900 felt an explosion of pain scorch down its back so bright it blinded it for a second.

Images of Gavin Reed flashed across its mind as its ocular processors hastily tried to come back online.

Detective Reed’s sneer, cold, cocky, full of disgust, paired perfectly with the heightened sensation of warmth it was suddenly recognizing, signaling that his hands were back in its hair as he dragged its body up and forward onto its knees. Gavin Reed’s mouth, curling around cigarettes, spitting out the window, burned something hot and heavy in the core of its thirium pump as RK900 felt the Detective’s knee collide with its nose.

“Fuck!” RK900 shouted, blinking the blackness out of its eyes as its vision came back online to reveal a blue puddle on the ground beneath him. Reed’s foot connected with its ribs in a delicious crunch and sent it sprawling to the ground on its back, gasping, arching its spine, and struggling to manage the liquid fire and heat pulsing through its body.

“Yeah, I thought so.” Reed said, settling his shoe against RK900’s chest, right under its collar bones. The android bucked weakly, and its eyes rolled back in its head. “Definitely kinkier than a Traci.”

RK900 bit its bottom lip and clenched its fingers together weakly as its internal fans stuttered.

“What’s that? Got more in you?” Reed asked, standing up with his weight on the android’s chest briefly before dropping down to straddle it. Distantly, it registered the fact that the car was blocking much of their bodies from the station. Thank God.

Reed’s first two fingers – the ones he holds his cigarettes with – dug into RK900’s cheek to turn its head roughly.

RK900 opened its mouth to snark something at the Detective, only to find those same fingers filling its mouth instead and forcing its head back against the ground with a firm push. The delicate wiring at the back of its throat sparked, and it choked around them.

“That’s it, babe.” Reed sneered, watching its eyes lose focus all over again. “You just tell me when you want another.”

At least RK900 was able to feel its system overload coming, that time.

 


End file.
